


odd socks

by emmerrr



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmerrr/pseuds/emmerrr
Summary: Home for the summer, Adam's socks start mysteriously disappearing.





	odd socks

**Author's Note:**

> had a tumblr prompt for odd socks and shoulder kisses and thought it was cute enough to put here as well. also i accidentally lost it the first time and had to rewrite the whole thing so i wanted to open it up to a wider audience so my efforts get seen lmao

It’s a while before Ronan notices, to be honest.

Socks just aren’t something he pays that much attention to; his own, or anyone else’s. They’re just…there. He doesn’t even really have a specific sock drawer. It’s more of a mixed bag drawer, full of sweatpants, PJs, boxers, and socks. His only prerequisite when reaching for socks in the morning is that there’s two of them. Whether or not they match is irrelevant.

So when Adam, home for the summer, mentions that he thinks some of his socks are going missing, Ronan doesn’t think too much about it.

“You sure you didn’t just leave them in the drier?”

“Pretty sure. I checked, and then I double-checked.”

“Oh well, I’m sure they’ll turn up,” Ronan says, then drags Adam’s attention back to more important things, like making out on the sofa for hours.

A couple of weeks later, Adam brings it up again, and Ronan tries to suggest other explanations.

“Maybe you accidentally left a bunch of socks at college?”

“Not a chance. They’re getting washed and dried as pairs, but when I come to empty the machine, a sock from each pair has gone, every single time. I’m gonna run out at this rate, I’ll have to get more.”

“You can always wear mine, Parrish, I don’t care. Or I’ll dream you up some new ones, easy-peasy.”

Adam frowns. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just… _weird._ It’s only  _my_ socks. I don’t get it.”

Strange as it is, Ronan still thinks weirder things have happened to them, so again it doesn’t rank too high on his list of priorities. It’s just one of those things, an unexplainable story to laugh about in the future.

After one afternoon spent working in one of the barns outside, Ronan returns to the house in the early evening and heads straight for the kitchen. Adam has returned from work, and is standing with his back to Ronan, leaning on the counter before him and watching the coffee machine do its thing.

He’s clearly been back a while, because he’s wearing sweats and a baggy t-shirt, and he’s had a shower and a nap if the way his hair’s sticking up on one side is anything to go by. But it’s his socks that immediately draw Ronan’s eye.

On Adam’s left foot is a sock in the colours of the bi pride flag, and on his right is a sock of Ronan’s, a red one patterned with multi-coloured dinosaurs. They were a Christmas gift from Matthew.

Adam doesn’t immediately realise Ronan’s there what with the coffee machine gurgling away, but as Ronan pads over he senses him a second before he reaches him, turning his face a half-inch and smiling.

Ronan tugs lightly at the sleep-stretched neck of Adam’s t-shirt and presses a lingering kiss to his bare shoulder, before wrapping his arms around him. “You look so fucking adorable,” he murmurs into Adam’s hearing ear.

Adam doesn’t verbally respond but he melts into Ronan a little, tilting his neck to allow access for Ronan to kiss a line down it the way he knows Adam likes.

“Nice socks,” he says, and it’s this that finally prompts Adam into actually speaking.

He turns around and lifts up his bi-stocking-ed foot. “See!” he exclaims. “The other one’s disappeared. I now don’t have  _any_ matching pairs of socks in this house and there is definitely a conspiracy at play.”

Ronan snorts. “Yeah, okay, this is getting pretty weird,” he allows.

Adam narrows his eyes. “This isn’t you, is it?”

“Huh?”

“The  _socks,_ Ronan. Is it you?”

“Adam, why the  _fuck_ would I steal your socks?”

“…Yeah, okay,” Adam says, visibly deflating. “I didn’t think you had a foot fetish as well as a hand kink.”

“Hey.” Ronan lightly pokes the tip of Adam’s nose. “Rude.”

“Sorry.” Adam sighs. “I just…I really, really don’t understand what could have happened to them.”

“Have you tried asking your tarot cards?”

“You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“I try.”

The rest of the summer passes in a wonderful blur, far too quickly but with as much fun and love as they can possibly squeeze into the days. No more of Adam’s socks go missing, but he refuses to replace any until he gets back to college, not wanting to risk them going walkabout at the Barns.

The day before he’s due to leave, he has one final shift at Boyd’s, an easy afternoon of oil changes for one last influx of cash. His bag is packed and waiting by the door in the hallway so it can be easily thrown into the car in the morning.

Ronan’s in the kitchen preparing a farewell feast worthy of champions when he hears the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor coming from the hallway. He stops chopping potatoes and follows the sound, stepping through the doorway just in time to catch sight of Adam’s duffel bag being pulled up the stairs.

He rounds the corner so he’s standing at the bottom of the stairs and looks up to see that it’s Opal who’s making off with Adam’s bag. She freezes when she spots Ronan, drops the bag strap and darts the rest of the way upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Sighing, Ronan puts Adam’s bag back by the door and then follows Opal up the stairs.

He knocks on her door. “Opal?” No response. “I’m coming in, okay?”

He hesitates just in case she decides she doesn’t want him there, but when there’s still no reply he opens the door and scans the room.

He doesn’t immediately see her and feels a brief flare of panic that she might have escaped out the window (an alarming prospect as they’re on the second floor), but then he spots her sitting in the corner, facing the wall and covering her face with her hands.

She looks like she’s put herself in a time-out. Or that she’s counting for a game of hide-and-seek.

Ronan sits on the edge of her bed. “Opal. Look at me.”

At length, she lowers her hands and turns, pinning him with those big eyes, wide and unblinking.

“Why were you trying to hide Adam’s bag?”

“Because he can’t leave if he can’t find it,” she says slowly, as if she thinks he’s being very dim-witted on purpose.

“But he’s gotta go back to college. You know that.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “He went to college last year.”

“Right, but we talked about this, remember? It’s four years. And he’s already done one now.”

“Three more,” she says sadly.

“I know. It sounds long. But it’ll be like last year. He’ll go and then he’ll come back.”

She crosses her arms, petulant. “So long…”

“It feels like it sometimes, yeah, but that’s why we call him, and why we visit, and why he comes home as much as he can.”

Ronan understands separation anxiety all too well. It’s hard to comfort Opal when he feels very much the same. But he supposes one of them has to be the adult in this particular situation, and the task has fallen unenviably to him.

Opal finally deigns to come and sit next to him. “Won’t he miss us?” she asks quietly.

“Course he will, we’re fucking awesome,” Ronan says, and Opal finally quirks a smile. “But he’s worked really hard for this and he’s learning loads of cool stuff at college. So we can’t hide his stuff even though we’re gonna miss him, okay?”

Opal sighs. “Okay.” She hops down and reaches under her bed, pulling out a cardboard box. “Do you think he’ll need these as well?”

Ronan peers inside to see that the box is full of socks.  _Adam’s_ socks, to be exact. Mystery solved.

He bursts out laughing, and it’s a while before he gets his breath back to speak. “Did you think Adam wouldn’t be able to go back if none of his socks matched?”

“What else is the point of matching socks?” she asks, genuinely curious, and this sets Ronan off again.

“Ohhh, brat,” he says, wrapping an arm around her. “Don’t ever change.”

Adam is both pleased and confused when he gets home and is presented with his missing socks.

“Where did you find them?”

“Uhhh…” Ronan stalls, looking to Opal, unsure of how much she wants him to say, or if she even cares at all.

Adam notices the exchange and smiles at her. “Was it you who found them?”

Opal nods slowly. “They were…out…side,” she says unconvincingly. “I think Chainsaw took them.” Then she nods emphatically, happy with this excuse considering Chainsaw won’t be able to defend her own honour. “It was Chainsaw.”

Ronan supposes that just because he doesn’t lie, doesn’t mean Opal’s incapable. Adam smiles again, and there’s something knowing and wistful in it. He can likely now guess that Opal’s the true culprit, but he won’t call her out on it. He’s good like that.

“Well thank you,” he says, straightening Opal’s skull-cap. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Opal beams and kisses the back of his hand before scampering off outside to torment the local wildlife or whatever else she does for fun.

Adam steps into Ronan’s orbit and kisses him, slow and gentle. “I don’t know what I’d do without  _you_ either,” he murmurs.

Ronan grins at that. “I think you should  _only_  wear odd socks from here on out.”

“Y’know what, it’s grown on me.”


End file.
